


Would That I Could

by deedeejadexo



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Character Death, Death, Family, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Iron Family, Kid - Freeform, Parent Tony Stark, Pre-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, during endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 08:49:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deedeejadexo/pseuds/deedeejadexo
Summary: (An imagined scene during Endgame, after the snap, before the five years pass.)Thanos did it. They had lost and he'd done exactly what he'd set out to do - half of the entire planet has been wiped from existence. They'd tried and failed when confronting the Titan to retrieve the stones, for they were destroyed. So, this was it. There was nothing they could do. Time to move on. Only for Tony, who is now safely back on Earth, settled at his cabin with Pepper by his side, starting his long road to recovery, just can't stop thinking about a certain teenager. It certainly doesn't help matters when he discovers an unplayed voicemail recording on an old cell phone from the kid.





	Would That I Could

The fire crackled and illuminated the small cabin with an orange hue as the sound of rain forcefully hailed against the windows. Protected from the onslaught of rain, Tony Stark sat beside Pepper Potts on the large padded and cushioned sofa, the sound from their television barely audibly as the winds outside picked up and jostled the swings on the decking just beyond the front door.

“It’s really coming down out there,” Pepper mumbled conversationally, eyes tiredly glued to the tv screen, her legs tucked up beside her and her body leaning in close to her boyfriends in that of a loving snuggle.

With one arm, thin and emaciated, tucked around the back of her shoulder and pulling her closer still, Tony ‘hmm’-ed his non committed response.

Pepper began to pull away from him then. With his brown eyes focussed unseeingly straight ahead, Tony registered the strawberry blonde, or rather, her hair, in blur in his peripheral move and straighten just off to his right. But his head was too focussed on other things to pay enough attention other than that. Every day it was the same. They’d lost. They had risked everything. _He_ had risked everything. And they’d lost. Half of the planet – half of existence – was wiped out. Gone. And it was on them. It was on _him_.

Partners, loved ones, children, friends, mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, even pets. Everyone had lost someone. _And what a helluva price to pay that was for someone else’s screw up_, Tony mentally berated. _For mine._

Yet despite coming to learn that Thanos had succeeded, that the entire planets population had just been halved, or that Thor had lost not just his home, but his father and brother in the space a week, that Clint had lost his entire family, Rogers – his best friend and for all intents and purposes, his brother… which, don’t get him wrong, the guilt accompanying all of that knowledge was enough to make him feel as though he should’ve been left on that ship in space to be stranded for the rest of his days… it was just, it always led back to the same person. And it was wrong, _so_ wrong, that all that Tony could think about, think of, despite all this, amongst all this, was always one person.

“Tony?”

Too dry big brown eyes blinked, searching and head turning in the direction of the voice that had called him. That beautiful soft and calming voice. Pepper stood before him, in a cascading mix of orange and dark shadow from the fireplaces glow. Concern she knew better than to voice echoed in her posture and stance as she surveyed him patiently and curiously. Her right hand rested loosely on her hip; a question not long had left her lips and she was waiting. Unfortunately, Tony hadn’t heard it.

“Yeah, Pep? Sorry, miles away.” He apologised, wiping a bony hand down his weary face as if to try and wake himself up, voice strained and strangely hoarse.

Pepper said nothing, her expression never changing as she simply nodded for a moment and allowed him to collect himself. Then, she smiled kindly, dropping her hand from her hip and adopting a casual stance. “I asked what you’d like to eat, leftovers or ham salad?”

“Is it that time already?” Tony asked in mild surprise, brows drawing in bafflement and pulling the arm of his blue sweater up to reveal his watch, which indeed read just after eight pm. 

“You know, now that you mention it,” Tony started, looking back to Pepper and already feeling the tell-tale pull of his stomach muscles protesting as he rubbed his palm over it. “Can we not just skip it today?” He pretending to grimace when Pepper’s grin grew at this, and her one brow rose, like she was expecting this reply and even preparing for it.

“I don’t think so,” she playfully retorted.

“But,” he began with childlike petulancy, batting his eyelashes and pouting his lips, playing along with his mere basic instinct, “I’m Still full from lunch.”

Rolling her eyes and laughing, Pepper turned around made her way towards the kitchen. “Nice try. We’re already leaving it late. You need to stretch your stomach. It was our deal, remember? We come here together and get away on the condition that you recuperate healthily and eat. You need to gain weight, Tony. Build up your muscle mass and get your strength back. You were stabbed, too, need I remind you.”

“You’re right,” Tony sighed and let his head fall back against the headrest behind him, his arms falling to rest by his side. He did agree to that. Since he’d been back on solid ground, his feet had barely been able to hold him up. He was severely malnourished, he knew. Underweight and so dangerously unhealthy that he’d been an inch close to death. Hell, a few more hours and he would’ve been. Trapped in space, deprived of any and all essential sustainable life amenities for nearly a month will do that to a guy.

He counted himself lucky that he was too weak and unwell, neigh unconscious and battling the beginning of his long road to recovery to help the others go and try to retrieve the stones from Thanos. But after the combination of news on the teams return regarding the Titans death and the destruction of the stones, the heavy feeling of this being it and lay heavy in Tony’s mind. Pepper suggested, once he was strong enough to stand and manage for the most part on his own two feet, to get away, maybe to the countryside in upstate New York, to the lake house-cabin, to fill his lungs with some non-polluted air and spend some much needed time together. Tony acquiesced, not wholly finding it within himself to care too much at the time what happened to him or where he was going. And still, even now, a few months down the line from the day of him being brought back to Earth, he still had more bad days than good. For this was life now? They’d all failed so much in their entirety that there was nothing they could do now? No coming back from this? What good was being an Avenger if you couldn’t avenge? If there was nothing left to avenge?

It was tough to find the courage and will to want to go on. To keep going and move on, as he heard Steve countless times tell others. If only it were that easy. Not everyone gets to keep going and move on. Not everyone, thanks to them, is alive to do such things. Taken far too soon. What or who got to decide who was left behind and who disappeared? Why is he here and not countless others? Why not him? Why does _he_ get to stick around when kids like Pe—

“So,” Pepper interrupted his internal struggle from inside the kitchen, her voice travelling through the hall holding an air of empathetic and startling understanding. “What’ll it be?”

A small trace of a smile graced the corner of the engineer’s lips. _Woman’s inside my head, knows me too well._ “Leftovers please, post-haste!” Tony called back to her teasingly, sitting up properly and moving forward to perch on the edge of the sofa. “Definitely want hot food,” he mumbled as an afterthought, catching a small breeze in his movement of his still too lithe body.

Eyeing up the room, he saw that Pepper must’ve muted the tv as it was still on but now silent. Two lit candles stood either side of the coffee table in front of him and he watched the wick burn for a few seconds. Oddly peaceful, watching fire burn, he thought fleetingly, for a method and means of such destruction. The wood fire was still ablaze but starting to dwindle, the light it produced along with it.

Pushing himself into standing with only little difficulty as such his undernourished and thin state would allow, Tony made his way over to the fireplace and picked up a few logs to throw onto it before stoking it and watching it light fully once more.

He sat back on his heels and wiped his soot and bark covered palms on his jeans before standing and making a move to walk back around the coffee table and to his seat. On his way, he found himself stopping short. A few small and full to the brim Armani duffle bags were situated the left of the fireplace, between a bookshelf and a set of drawers. Right where he’d dumped and left them upon his arrival earlier this week.

Staring them down, Tony huffed and stalked over to them and picked them up, taking them along with him to his residence back on the sofa. Plonking himself down and letting out a winded breath, the engineer pulled the zip on one of the bags toward him, revealing its contents. Nothing special – mainly contracts and work papers, the fun kind and not so fun kind, he’d convinced Pepper to let him take along with him. He’d go stir crazy, as she well knows, not being able to fiddle with his bots, suits or designs for however many weeks or months – recovery be damned. He needed something to keep himself and his mind busy and active.

He pushed the bag aside and reached for the other. This one, he didn’t know what was inside. Pepper had packed it and told him it was a bag full of an assortment of things. From extra essentials like toiletries, technological things he could make himself useful and busy with by sorting through and fiddle with, to a few personal items she thought he’d appreciate keeping close and near, to which Tony distinctly recalls smirking when she’d told him and brushing aside, with a deja-vu inducing familiar: ‘Pep, I’ve been called many things, nostalgic isn’t one of them, remember?’

He grabbed the zipper of this bag like he had with the previous one, pulled in down and exposed its secrets within. Reaching inside, he pulled out the first thing he felt. It was a picture of him and his father. He was nothing more than a teenager. It was his first day at MIT, Tony realised, blinking at it. He surprised himself at how pleased he was to see the familiar and much missed face smiling back at him, pride beaming clear as day and evident in Howard Starks expression. Gosh darn, but did he need this right now. _What is and always will be my greatest creation… Is you._ Pepper really did know him. “Ok Miss Potts, colour me impressed,” he stated with a smirk whilst he placed it on the coffee table before of him. “Stay there, Pop, don’t get into any trouble for a few minutes, would ya.”

He reached in again and wrapped his fingers around a thin and palm sized rectangular device. His brow rose curiously in wonder as he pulled out a smart phone. “Hello, old friend,” he chuckled, recognising it instantly, casting his mind back a few months to when he’s sure he’d lost the device. Experimentally he pressed the button on the side of the cell, not shocked in the least when it wouldn’t turn on.

“Didn’t think so,” he mumbled, twisting to the right of the sofa and leaning over the arm rest to the plug socket, where a cable dangled from a plug. “Need a little juice to get ya going, eh? Ah-ha!” Plugging in the device, he placed it on the empty cushion beside him before delving back into the bag.

A few cables were thrown into the nearby trash can situated on the other end of the sofa, accompanied by a few tools and forms. Toiletries, shower gels and other hair products made their way to the coffee table one after the other and were starting to form a nice pile. Before long, the bag was nearly empty, bar one object at the bottom of the bag. By now Tony was sporting a very small but happy and content smile. Pepper had briefly poked her head in to tell him some of the leftovers had turned so she was just polishing up some fresh vegetables for them to enjoy alongside their excess chicken. Tony wasn’t too happy about that. However, Pepper had insisted as it ‘aided recovery’.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Tony.” Pepper warned, having seen the sheen of perspiration that was currently covering her boyfriend’s skin.

“And how would I do that, Pep? I’m simply sitting here, like a good little boy, waiting for my dinner.” Tony smiled up at her innocently.

Pepper wisely didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she simply exasperatedly shook her head. “By walking around too much, sitting, standing and bending too much. I know you. I’ve only been gone five minutes.”

“That’s five minutes too long, if I do say so m’self.” Tony shot back with his best sultry grin.

“I’d say. Only you could get into trouble in that short amount of time.” She gave him a look of longing and adoration, watching his arm delve back into the bag she’d packed for him before tutting happily and making her way back to the kitchen, leaving him to it. “Just stay put. Shouldn’t be too much longer.”

Any reply that was forthcoming died on Tony’s lips immediately when his eyes crash landed on and made connection to what he’d just pulled from the bag.

His throat instantly dried, his jaw clenched, his eyes hardened as he stared down at the photo of himself and Peter Parker. He was presenting the kid with a certificate, the kid reaching up behind him and himself doing the same to Parker, giving each other the bunny ears and smiling at the camera. Swallowing with some difficulty, Tony placed the frame next to the one of him and his father atop the table, eyes never leaving the young and vibrant smile gracing the child’s cheeks.

Tony minutely shook his head as he looked at it; his hands forming loose fists as he rested his chin upon them forlornly with grief. Well, shit. There goes his semblance of a good mood.

A series of incessant _pings_ stole his attention quite quickly then, his brain catching up with him and telling him this was the sound of his old cell phone coming back to life with what sounded like a couple thousand notifications.

Turning toward it, Tony grabbed at it, happy for the distraction. Scrolling through what seemed like endless and hundreds of notifications, texts, missed calls, emails and bulletins, some of which were nearly half a year old, confirming his thoughts on when he thought he’d lost the piece of technology – just before the invasion – the start of the end of it all. Tony’s heart dropped into his stomach and his stomach jumped into his throat when he saw one name stand out amongst the rest, his thumb stopping the scrolling with a sudden jolt he felt to and through his core.

Missed call: Peter Parker

And directly atop of that…

Voicemail: Peter Parker

Tony forgot how to breathe. He could feel his heart rate pick up, his hands growing sweaty and shaky as he placed the cell down on his thigh. He took a few steady and deep breaths to try and slow his elevated breathing in attempt to reign in some of the remaining sanity that he had left.

“Just do it,” he murmured, unconsciously rocking back and forth ever so slightly in some sort of bid to find comfort. “Like ripping off a band aid.” He continued to himself aloud.

“C’mon Stark, you’ve pushed through the fear and faced space, literal aliens and monsters, yet you’re too afraid of playing and listening to a damned voice recording?”

Psyching himself up for, what, he wasn’t quite sure or wanted to overly think about, Tony determinedly plucked the cell from his knee and before he could further doubt and second guess himself, hit the correct notification that held the kids name, swiped it to play the recording, hit loudspeaker and waited, eyes going back to the photo and Peter’s face.

A standard dial tone rang for what seemed like forever, Tony’s muscles tense and breath held within his lungs. It was finally ended with his own voice greeting the caller; “You know who I am,” followed by a loud beep, signalling the caller to now leave a message.

“Oh my God! Oh my God, Mr. Stark!” The voice of an exerted and elated Peter Parker quickly filled the room around him, seemingly echoing off the walls. The instant he heard it, Tony exhaled in a deflated and heartfelt collapse, all but falling back against the sofa, his face expressing such remorse and utter sadness at hearing the kids voice.

Tony could hear the sound of wind in the background, the glossy sound he’s sure he’ll never forget till the last of his days of Peter shooting and firing mesh of webbing from his web shooters, with the unmistakeable sound of terror and fear from screaming citizens.

“There’s a – a spaceship above New York! I’m trying to get closer to it now, but I still have no idea what it is! It – it looks like a donut or a ring or–”

Tony’s eyelids dropped in realisation as it hit him. When this phone call was. Must’ve been just before they fought Thanos’ guys – where he had proceeded to follow after Strange, subsequently hitchhiking his way to space and Titan. And Peter, following behind him, concealing himself away, coming with them as a stowaway.

“—Holy crap, I think its lowering, Mr. Stark. I’m heading towards it now, gonna try and get as many people away from it as I can.”

His lids rose along with a small bittersweet smile that creeped and pulled at the corner of Tony’s lips. Even when the world was ending, Peter was at heart, all about the neighbourhood and keeping it and its people safe.

“Karen, send Mr. Stark my location, I might need back up. I got off the school bus just in time, it’s crazy out here, people are running everywhere.”

Memories behind his minds eye flashed before him as he recalled the same thing. People panicking and running every which way. He himself helped a few people to their feet and directed them to safety. All the while, like Peter, being one of the crazy few people heading toward the danger to face it head on and see what he could do to stop it.

“Whoa, careful sir! Go that way, go back, get inside!”

Tony could tell Peter was swinging his way through the streets precariously in his haste to get to the scene, could hear just how tired and used his muscles must be, if his panting in between rushed breaths wasn’t indication enough.

“This is insane, I don’t know if I can handle this on my own—MR STARK! Mr. Stark, I see you over there! HEY, MR. STARK! Are you in the Iron Man suit? And – and _what_ is that thing you’re fighting? OUT OF THE WAY, PLEASE! Sorry, ma’am! Jeez, that thing is weird looking. SPIDER-MAN COMING THROUGH! I’m coming Mr. Stark, I’m nearly there. I’m coming to help!”

A long silence other than the rain pelting the windows outside filled the room. An eerie quiet settled amongst the atmosphere around him. Glancing from Peter’s face to the cell in his hand, Tony saw the screen had signified that the message had finished, and the voicemail had ended.

With a foreign feeling wetness gradually creeping across his too dry dark brown eyes, Tony redirected them to look at the photo of the two of them again. He cleared his throat, wishing with all his being that the Peter in the photo would talk back to him, move or laugh.

“I’d swap if I could, kid.” He admitted, tone gravel tight and worn. And utterly, inexplicitly defeated. He felt choked, a feeling of familiar foreboding over coming and encompassing him. “You have to know…” he trailed off, shaking his head, mouth agape through his struggle, at a loss for words to express his most compelling desires. “If there was any way, Pete, or anything I could do, I swear, I would.”

“Tony.” A soft and sad, equally broken whisper sounded behind him.

Tony started nonetheless, spun around on his seat, faced his girlfriend with an expression Pepper would describe close to panic, manic and hysteria. One she’s only seen less than a handful of times. Tony felt wetness on his cheeks, at a complete loss as he watched the love of his life approach him, take a seat beside him, reach for the phone in his hand and place it on the table. She brought a palm up to the side of his face and tilted her head, her hair brushing sweetly across her own face as she tucked it behind her ear with her free hand.

Never breaking eye contact, she wiped her thumb across his bottom lid, under his eye, gathering the tears that fell there. Gradually, the mans tired eyes closed, he could feel his heartbeat regulating and his blood slowing in his veins. A palm closed around the back of his neck and gently tugged him forward and he allowed it, falling forward into a loving embrace.

Resting his head upon her chest and bringing his arms around her body and lifting them up to circle around her, he felt Pepper cradle his head, her fingers running gently through his hair, her lips pressed against the top of his head, easing him into more of a sense of calm than calamity, bringing him back from the brink.

After a few steadying minutes, Tony felt himself sway with exhaustion in her arms, the day’s events and so much more he couldn’t even fathom or comprehend at this moment, catching up to him.

“C’mon, Tony.” She said with a kiss to the crown of his brow. “Eat, then bed.”

“Yeah,” Tony gulped, nodding, pulling back. “Be right behind you.”

Pepper withdrew her hold and stood silently, giving Tony’s hand a firm squeeze before leading by example and exiting the room, switching the tv off and blowing the candles out on her way out.

Disguising a yawn as a deep breath, Tony pushed himself forward again and made a move to stand. But first, one last time, for tonight at least, he squarely looked from the photo of himself with his father to that of himself and Peter. Solemnly, he reached for that latter and pulled on the sleeve of his sweater – noting and then rubbing over a scuffed bit of the glass above Peter’s head, cleaning it.

Nodding once, he placed it back down on the tables surface, smiled very slightly back at Parker’s joyful and boyish, excited expression and walked as fast as he dared in the direction Pepper had just gone.

All the while deciding, he’d have to hang or place that photo somewhere he’ll see it every day so the kids smile can continue to shine so vibrantly bright.

_I owe you at least that, Pete._


End file.
